


Dimming Hope

by GalacticTwink



Series: Danganronpa fics [5]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Chapter 5 Spoilers, Drabble, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mildly Romantic, POV Saihara Shuichi, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, chapter 5, sad boy hours, secret of the outside world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-06 18:37:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20511635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticTwink/pseuds/GalacticTwink
Summary: There’s no hope left. The wasteland beyond our prison, the air so toxic that we couldn’t breathe it in for a full minute. There’s nothing left. We can’t return, we can’t even rebuild. Going out now would be suicide. And maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. There’s no reason. There was no reason for so many of us to die. But there’s no reason to live either.





	Dimming Hope

I blink, like I expect the wall in front of me to move. I roll my shoulders, looking away from my bedroom wall almost straining my eyes after so long. I don’t remember if the last announcement was for morning or night, the days blurring together even easier without Monokuma to actually say the time. My knees shake as I get up, legs almost buckling beneath me for my first few steps. How long has it been? I haven’t gotten out of bed since… images of the outside world swim through my head. 

No, I can’t think about that right now. But what else is there to think about? The outside was all we ever had to think about, now I’m trying desperately to rip it from my mind. I sink down into a chair, shaken up again after only a few paces through the room. There’s really nothing out there. All this time, everything we’ve wanted, everything we looked forward to, all of our hope.. It was for nothing. There’s no hope left. The wasteland beyond our prison, the air so toxic that we couldn’t breathe it in for a full minute. There’s nothing left. We can’t return, we can’t even rebuild. Going out now would be suicide. And maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. There’s no reason. There was no reason for so many of us to die. But there’s no reason to live either. 

I rifle through my things, pulling my cap down over my eyes before I stumble out of the room. It’s dark outside, easy on my tired eyes and for the best- considering I didn’t bother to change or put on the rest of my uniform. Everyone should be asleep, just my shirt and wrinkled pants is fine. 

Well, everyone but one person should be in their rooms. I have no idea where Kokichi is or what he could be doing. I try to push away my thoughts about him, too much to unpack and not enough sanity left to even scratch the surface. 

I stumble out into the cool night air, breathing outside my own room for the first time in at least a few days. It’s crisp, bringing more steadiness to my step as I wander through the courtyard. My footsteps echo, nothing else moving at this hour. I enter the school building, just as quiet as the outside but darker and more unsettling. My stomach flips at the thought of why this place was made. 

The twisting stairs make it easy to think, one foot falling after the other without any worry for where I’m going. Why? Why was I chosen to be here, why didn’t I remember sooner, why did we go through this whole killing game just to stay right where we are? Why did we have any hope in the first place? And why am I still here? There’s nothing now, just reminders of everything we’ve lost that we can never escape. Why can’t I decide if my friends didn’t have to die, or if we all should?

My feet stop, leaving me standing in front of Maki’s research lab. I open the door, peeking inside first to make sure it’s empty before I venture inside. I’ve never been in here alone before. It feels cold and lifeless, the way Maki’s eyes used to. The way they might now, after learning the truth. The last time I was here it was so warm, Maki leaned over Kaito’s shoulder struggling to teach him how to build a crossbow. The same bow is back in its case, no different from the rest of the lifeless weapons in this room. 

I walk over to the wall, my eye out for something special. I know she won’t have one, but I want something from here. I settle for the longest knife she has, the flawless blade lined on one side with large serrations. I test it in my hand, mostly unfamiliar with a blade this size. It couldn’t compare to a sword, but the pocket knife I had back home pales in comparison to it. 

It glides through the air, weighted just right to guide my inexperienced hand. I would’ve liked to ask Maki to show me how to use it properly. I slide the knife into its sheath and fit it into my pocket, just the tip of the hilt peeking out. I look around again but leave quickly, hastily making my way back to my bedroom. I place the knife on my bedside table before climbing back into bed, forcing myself to sleep though I haven’t done anything to warrant it. 

Another pointless announcement wakes me up, my head barely rising from my pillow to glance at the empty screen. I crumble back, staring up at the ceiling over me. And above that I can picture the sky outside, bright and blue. But it’s a lie. The real sky, red as if bloodied by the millions of lives lost, flashes across my vision. 

I drag myself out of bed and pull my discarded jacket back on, tugging my hat down into my face to prepare for the false sunlight. Before I can leave I take my knife, tucking it into my large jacket pocket to side it entirely. 

The courtyard is empty, not a whisper of activity as I trudge through the painfully bright light. I nearly fall on the latter, catching myself on the metal rungs and hurrying to the bottom. The passage seems so big when it’s only me, the tunnel wide and dark and inviting me in. Without the hammer I had before I won;t be able to get through but..

I step through, bracing myself for traps that don’t come. They’re disabled. Turned off now that we all know the truth, no doubt. It’s just a matter of walking from one end to the next, taking me all the way to the large metal door separating me from the outside. The toxic wasteland, uninhabitable by any life. The electric field isn’t activated, the panel beside the door lit up again despite being smacked with a hammer. I inspect it carefully, finding something I hadn’t seen before. 

With shaking fingers I press the button, watching the thick metal peel away as it phases into a window; showing me the horror all over again but this time not giving me the release of losing consciousness. I’m tempted to open it. No one will come to close it this time. I would suffocate, choke to death on the diseased air. Would it spread? Fill the entire dome until the life here dies too? Maybe we deserve it. To let the dream that consumed us enough to kill snuff out our ives one by one. 

My hands tremble, missing the buttons on my jacket several times before I can undo it- reaching inside and sliding the knife from its sheath to look at it. The blade shines in the eerie red light, tip quivering in the air. I swallow thickly, mouth gone dry. I twist the hilt in my hands, suddenly steady as I stare at them. 

There’s no hope left. There’s no hope left. There’s no hope left. There’s nothing left to live for. There’s nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing. Nothing could be worse than this. There’s no hope. 

I drive the blade into my stomach. My body curls, insides twisting and ripping along the serrated edge. Blood stains my white shirt, bleeding out through the fabric and weighing it down. It hurts so much I can barely feel it, the world spinning as my senses numb. I yank the blade out with all my might, the bloody hilt slipping from my hands and hitting the ground with a clatter. I wanted to keep it. Blood gushes from the now open wound over the weapon, but I still manage to grab ahold of it again. I rip my jacket trying to shove it into its sheath, blood smearing across the front as I try to button it again. I manage one and call it good enough, stumbling back towards the tunnel. 

Everything is a little out of focus, my steps staggering while the ground moves under them. I can’t feel the pain anymore. I slip on the latter a few times, blood slicked hands struggling to drag the rest of my body up the rungs. 

It’s dark outside now, the yard just as empty as it has been for days. The wysteria just outside the dorms is beautiful. Purple and delicate. I think I’d like to die in front of it. But I’m having trouble remembering which way to go, the blue dorm building moving as I step towards it. Why can’t everything stay still?

“Shuichi~! What are you doing out here so late? You look like you had too many drinks at the casino.” Kokichi’s cheerful voice sends a chill down my spine. He sounds far away, but the carefree words are coming at me from all directions. I spin, the world continuing after I stop- setting sights on a hazy white silhouette in the darkness. 

I grasp desperately at my jacket, ripping the button I fastened off to grab my already bloody knife; still dripping as I hold it out in front of me. Kokichi i swaying, warping as I try to focus on him. 

“Oh my, who did you go out and kill while I wasn’t watching?” I muster a laugh, pushing it past my lips and forcing it to bubble out of me. I don’t recognise the sound of my own voice, so dememted with despair as I cackle in the face of the mastermind himself. 

The knife tumbles from my hands, manic laugh warping into a cough. My hands clench over my stomach, the back of my throat opening and prying my lips further apart to make way for the wave of blood that forces its way out. 

I fall to the ground, my vision of Kokichi suddenly clear. He looks closer than I thought, blood smeared across his cheek. My blood? I didn’t get to see the wysterias. My eyes cross, the last clear image I see of Kokichi’s face before everything goes dark. 

* * *

I wake with a start, pain shooting up my midsection as I jump up from my pillow. I look down at my hands, whole body trembling. I don’t recognise the blanket covering me. Where did I fall asleep? My head hurts. What was I doing?

“Are you finally awake?” a cheery voice cuts through my thoughts, purple hair popping up from the other side of my couch. No, not my couch. I look back at the comforter pulled over me, the checkered pattern all too familiar. Am I..?

Kokichi springs up from his seat, a spring in his step as he makes his way over to my bedside. He leans over me, giving me a surprisingly gentle push back into bed. 

“You shouldn’t move so much.” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. I’ve never seen him out of his full uniform, the long black sleeves a stark difference from the way I’m used to seeing Kokichi. I’m almost afraid to ask. 

“Is this..” my throat is so dry, speaking feels about as good as swallowing nails. “..your room?” I force out the rest of the words, coughing. The sharp movement brings the pain back, my hands gripping against my stomach. 

“Hey! What did I say?” he pulls my hands away, tilting my shoulders forward to fuss with the pillows behind me. When he lets me go there’s a stiff cushion behind my back, supporting me enough to sit up without any pain. He hums. “This is my room. I wasn’t going to yours after you sat in there for four days without taking a shower.” four days? Is that all it’s been? “You’re such a hassle Shuichi, what were you thinking? Didn’t I get it through your thick skull before- the killing game is over!” what’s he.. The images from what I thought was a dream flood back. Did I really… Did he really stop me? Kokichi walks around the bed, climbing up to sit next to me. 

He places the palm of his hand against my forehead, 

“Well, you’re not hot anymore at least. But jeez, I really thought you were going to die right in front of me!” he pushes hair away from my face, fingertips tracing delicately across my surprisingly clean skin. I feel less dirty than I did before I stabbed myself. Another look at my hands shows me there’s not a trace of blood left on them- not even under my nails. 

“What.. did you..” I press my hand against my throat. 

“Ugh, here.” Kokichi reaches over me, taking my wrist and pressing a still cold glass of water against my palm. “Something hot would be better but I’d have to leave for that.” I almost drop it, his hands catching mine before the slick glass can spill a drop. I try again, holding it steady and tipping my head to the glass instead of trying to lift it too far. Kokichi helps me, tipping the cup towards my lips. I can feel him watching me while I drink, the cold water refreshing but stinging my aching throat. It’s better than nothing, but I’m not sure I want to thank him for anything right now. I cough, letting Kokichi set the glass back down on his bedside table. 

“What did you do to me?” I manage a clear sentence, his amused expression only making me more frustrated. He laughs at me, light and airy and, I hate to admit, the nicest sound I’ve heard in a while. I hate the way my heart calms listening to him. 

“You’re the one that stabbed yourself. You weren’t getting into my bed covered in blood like that, my sheets are white.” I was sleeping in his bed. I hadn’t thought about it like that. Kokichi is watching me, his stupid smile missing from his face as he stares at my own. I run my tongue along my teeth, looking down at my hands to avoid looking at him. 

“Do you want a cup of tea. I can go get one, if you’ll stay this calm while I’m gone.” am I calm? I nod, sparing a glance at Kokichi to make sure he’s still not playing a trick on me. I’m just waiting for it; for him to laugh in my face or tease me about something. But when he gets up he still looks sincere, waving his finger at me as a playful threat. 

“Don’t get out of bed while I’m gone. Don’t even move, got it? You’d better still be alive when I get back.” he ducks out, the lock clicking behind him. I am now alone in Kokichi Oma’s bedroom. I thought it would look more evil, but it’s almost a replica of my own. From the bed I can see a white couch facing the wall mounted TV, and just the edge of a bookshelf built into the wall. 

The knife I stabbed myself with is sitting on his table, buckled back into its sheath and completely cleaned off. I shift, pulling myself further up to sit almost completely straight. The blanket over my falls, exposing some of my bare chest. I peel it back further, peering down at the pristine white bandages wrapped tightly around my stomach. They’re so clean, I can’t imagine how many times he must’ve changed them for these to not have so much as a speck of blood soaking through. But something else catches my eye, tugging the comforter down my thighs further. 

I flush. Gaudy, bright orange boxers are pulled up high on my hips, horizontal yellow lines breaking up the orange but making them even worse to look at. But.. these definitely aren’t mine. On top of that, they’re the only thing I’m wearing- the rest of my skin bare save for what’s wrapped up. I am in Kokichi’s room, could these be his? I don’t want to think about that, particularly the image of him dressing me that pops into my head. 

A glance around doesn’t make my clothes magically appear in the room. They were ripped up and bloody, so I doubt Kokichi would’ve kept them. I can’t figure him out. He went out of his way to squash all the hope we had left, wouldn’t it be a delight to watch the light die from my eyes too? He went to all this trouble, but it doesn’t change anything. I wanted to die. Being saved doesn’t give my life any meaning. 

Maybe that’s it. He saved me, forcing me to go on living without any hope- denying me even the right to die on my own terms. Something inside me tries to convince me Kokichi did it from the goodness of his heart, but I’m not convinced he has one. But thinking about his bright eyes, telling me how useful and how smart I am… It’s hard not to feel anything. 

“Hey Shuichi~!” the door swings open, Kokichi spinning in close behind it tray in hand. Didn’t he go out of a cup of tea? I do spy one on the folding tray in his hands, among other things. “Hey! I thought I told you not to move!” he sets down what he’s holding with a huff, hurrying to throw his blankets back over my legs. “You’ll get cold.” is that really the only reason? He goes to the trouble of tucking me in, fussing with the pillows propping me up while he mutters about straining my wound. 

“Kokichi?” he takes a step back, tilting his head at me. “Did you.. Dress me?” heat returns to my face, my eyes diving down away from his face. Kokichi laughs. 

“Of course I did! Aw don’t be embarrassed Shuichi, I didn’t do anything weird- cross my heart! Your clothes got all dirty, I couldn’t put them back on after I cleaned you up! I had to throw everything you were wearing away.” he spins on his heel, taking what he brought back in hand again and walking it carefully over to me. “Buuut look what I brought for you!” he folds the legs out, propping the small table up on my lap and waving his hands. He did bring me a cup of tea, steam still rising from the white teacup, but he brought me a whole meal along with it. 

“I figured you haven’t eaten for a while. You didn’t leave your room at all for four days, and you’ve been asleep in here for another whole day too.” a whole day? “And you didn’t cut open anything important down there, so you should be able to eat okay! Just don’t go too fast.”

I look down, stomach rumbling at the thought of eating. I didn’t realise it’d been so long. Kokichi brought me breakfast, already sliced french toast arranged around the cup of syrup. Off to the side is a dish of yogurt, diced bits of banana mixed in. I feel a little funny about all this. Usually I wouldn’t take food from Kokichi at all, but I don’t think he would cart me back here and keep me from dying just to kill me himself. And, if he did, I can’t say I would mind.

Kokichi climbs up into bed while I start to pick at the food, lounging beside me. I can’t help but looking over at him, watching him while I eat as slowly as I can. Everything he brought is soft and gentle on my still aching throat, the tea he made heavy with honey. My hands grow more steady with every bite, the shake in my fingers disappearing altogether. 

“Why?”

“Why?” Kokichi repeats my questions back to me, a frown slanting on his face. 

“Why didn’t you let me die?” the air goes still. “You already took my reason to live, now you’re taking this from me too?” he laughs. 

“That’s a funny way to thank me, Shuichi.” “I said-” “I didn’t take your reason to live- I set you free! I took away all your hope. They don’t have to be the same thing.” I blink. But, without hope, what am I living for? “What has hope given any of you? A reason to kill each other, that’s what. Why can’t you live for food or sports or sex? Why can’t you live for despair?” despair? I meet Kokichi’s eyes and there’s no doubt that he’s never lived for hope. He truly lives for despair. The thought sends a chill down my spine. 

“You don’t need a  _ reason _ to live, Shuichi, you just do.” He reaches over, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him just slightly. Kokichi’s eyes are bright and sincere, and I know he means every word he said. For someone who set up a killing game like this.. I didn’t know someone like that could sound so optimistic. His grip on my hand is firm, the warm smile reflected in his eyes making my cheeks flush.

“But if you need one… why don’t you live for me?” when he says it like that, voice so chipper and bright, I almost want to.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://galactictwink.tumblr.com/)! I take requests sometimes!
> 
> wc/3552
> 
> This turned into a glow-ed up version of one of my komahina fics and I didn't even mean for it to.  
No spoilers in my comments, I stopped the game right here in ch5 to write this


End file.
